The Colors of Holi

When it is time for Holi, I have never been one of those early starters, delaying the inevitable every time. This happens partly on account of the inertia that is behind my procrastinating self, and partly due to the looming fear of having to work hard for getting the color off my skin. Even when I was a little kid, whereas normal little kids revelled in the concept of dirtying themselves and others and getting lost in the world of colors, I had no such, at least not as clearly established, inclinations.

Now that many springs have passed since I used to be a little kid, the scenario is, if anything, even more so directed against the getting-wild-on-Holi tendencies. Not that I have anything against the festival or people who celebrate it whole-heartedly...in fact, I love all the revelry, the fun, and songs and dances that make Holi as special a festival as it is. But all the same, I can not get myself to shout with the same gusto, to forcibly bring out the shy ones from wherever they are hidden out to the maddeningly vibrant colors, to end up in a state where not even my closest and dearest would recognize me if not for a bucketful of water splashed on my face.

It is not that there have not been instances over the years when I have been one of the most vociferous on the battle field of color, actively involved and deeply ingrained. I can distinctly remember times when I was in different hostels (higher secondary, graduation, and even at post graduation levels) and as much a part of the fun as everyone else. But as I said in the beginning, I was never amongst early starters in this aspect, always the one who would follow the lead and that too after reasonable amount of either cajoling or coercion, depending upon the degree of inertia I would be under at the time.

This Holi was not too different. As India and Indians all over the world looked away from the daily routine and worries and trepidations and put on the mask of color, I was mostly unmoved and unimpressed. With Bharti Didi (my first cousin who stays in Vashi) having invited us for Holi, I was thankful that at least I will be amongst people on the festival and not closeted within the walls of my home with nobody but Priya for company.

I had thought that there will be quite a lot of action at Bharti Didi's place, what with Jijaji being of an effervescent nature himself, and his brother and sister-in-law also being there to enliven the atmosphere. I was surprised, however, to discover that the inertia I have is shared. In retrospect, I think that this may have been more because of the age group that the party belonged to. Although not really coming from entirely different generations, Priya and I were relatively the younger lot and the others had seen more of life and Holi festivities than either of us. And then there was the media, generally sermonizing on how festivals have been increasingly losing their sheen and zeal over the last few years, more so in the recent recessionary times.

So it was that apart from the traditional tilak, this Holi was rather colorless and limited in its impact. Till the next time, hope that the symbolism that color represents is not limited at all and all of you have an extremely colorful and joyous year ahead.